You know I told you so.
It's taken a day or two for me to get over my anger, but now I feel free to vent my spleen. Forget Gareth's M&S waistcoat, the penalty win over Columbia, slab head Maguire's goal, getting us to the semi-final and all the other hype as it was all too obvious that "Mr. Southgate" isn't up to the job.
OK, so maybe I wasn't quite up to speed to make it into the first eleven, but then I was never given a chance, was I? But come on - Marcus Rashford on as a sub in every match? What about me? Nothing, nada, nil, zero. Never a thought and I am a match winner. I am.
Well, we've got one more match to play and the only two people not to have any minutes on the pitch are one of the keepers and, yes, yours truly. It beggars belief. The keeper I can understand, he's not up to much anyway, but me, myself and I?
A few more days and I'll be on my way home to a hero's welcome I suppose. I'm not bitter, but don't expect me to be smiling on that open top bus, unless I've been able to reunite with my Russian floozy beforehand to work off my excess energy and bodily fluids.
I know what you're thinking. Open top bus? Hero's welcome? He's being a bit premature isn't he? I probably will be when I get hold of her...wink!
